


Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven?

by kinginspanx



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Adorable clumsy Harry, Amnesiac Harry, English Teacher Harry, F/M, I don't know why but I've always preferred bi!Harry, I'm always bad at creating titles, M/M, Sad and lost puppy Harry, The song just popped in my head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinginspanx/pseuds/kinginspanx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry survived Valentine's shot, the FBI found Harry a week after Rogue Monday (how the media and the world now calls V-Day) and transferred him to New York. No one in the world knew why, how, and who was behind the V-Day as Kingsman did not release any information to the world (it was enough chaos already, what with all the world leaders' head exploded at the same time and all).</p><p>Harry woke up not knowing who he was and not able to remember anything from his previous life. He was then placed under the care and protection of the FBI, and was given a new identity as George Falconer. He then chose to work as an English teacher at one of the public schools in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why can't I remember?

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about this idea ever since I read an RP post on amnesiac!Harry. I just LOVE amnesiac!Harry and all the angst that could happen later between him and Merlin (the angst would be more on Merlin's side though). I wasn't going to make a full fic at first as I'm actually in the middle of writing one with a whole different story right now. But I posted some drawings about this idea on [my tumblr](http://kinginspanx.tumblr.com/post/127811542392) and had quite nice reaction from it so I thought, the hell with it, I'm writing the full version! lol.
> 
> Can't promise if I could update this weekly, but I'll try my best!

Special Agent Elizabeth Aubrey was _not_ having a great week. The world she knew has gone to a literal clusterfuck of epic proportions.  What with both the President and Vice President of United States being dead _at the same time_. Elizabeth almost laughed when she heard the news stating that the cause of death was because their heads exploded. She thought the newscaster was trolling, everything in Fox News is a joke after all.

 

The numbness horror that happened a few seconds after the realization was not a feeling Elizabeth wants to ever feel again. It was complete and utter chaos, and not just in America, but the _whole_ world. Suddenly all of the world leaders and huge numbers of rich people died at the precise exact moment because their head exploded. And not only that, a sort of crazy plague swiped the world at the same day turning everyone into psychos, beating and killing each other for no apparent reason.

 

Elizabeth was not immune to the plague either. She beat up–and got beaten up–quite by a number of agents in the HQ during the Rouge Monday––that’s what the media is calling it now. The bruises are still apparent until now, so is the pain. But Elizabeth was thankful that she didn’t kill any of her colleagues during that day. A lot of other agents were not that lucky, and Elizabeth could only imagine the burden of guilt that would plague them afterwards.

 

It has been a week since the Rogue Monday, and still, no one has a clue on why, how, and what caused the Instant Psychotic Syndrome to happen––IPS, that’s what the scientists are calling it. All they knew was that some sort of signal or neurological waves was triggering the center of aggression and switched of people’s inhibitors, causing them to act psychotically to whomever they laid their eyes on. Even the CIA had no idea about what caused Rogue Monday or _who_ have triggered it––if there _was_ someone or an organization behind it.

 

But now Elizabeth thinks she had found what could be the first ever lead on the origins of IPS and––just maybe––the party behind Rogue Monday. She was going through all the news archive a week before the Rogue Monday and found a piece about how a church full of religious fanatics in Kentucky was found dead and in brutal conditions. It was reported that they might have killed each other during the sermon. There was no survivor but one. A man with no identity, who seemed to have survived a bullet to the head and is now being treated in one of the local hospital.

 

 _This happened ONE day before Rogue Monday. This can’t be a coincidence. The patterns just fit too perfectly_ , thought Elizabeth. She rushed to call her partner, Eric and head to Kentucky at once.

 

Elizabeth arrived at the Baptist Health Lexington Hospital in Kentucky where the survivor was being treated about three hours later. She introduced herself to the head of the hospital and swiftly inquired about the survivor.

 

“He was lucky”, said the Head of Hospital, Dr. Robert. “Whoever shot him must be a terrible shooter. The man was shot at point blank and yet the bullet only went through his right temple, just a little above his brows. Another half an inch toward the center and he was surely be dead by now”, Dr. Robert explained as he lead Elizabeth and Eric to the survivor’s room.

 

“I read in the police report that the bloods of other victims were found all around various parts of his body?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“Well, yes, but then again, the same thing applied to the rest of the group in that church. They were _all_ killing each other, Ms. Aubrey” said the doctor with a bit of disgusted look on his face. “If you had seen the state of the dead bodies…” there was horror on his face now as he stopped his sentence halfway.

 

Elizabeth understood his horror, so could almost everyone in the world. The sight of dead bodies lying everywhere, in her headquarters, the pavement in front of her office, hell, Elizabeth found a fucking baby lying on the street with a stab wound.

 

“Ah, we’re here” said Dr. Roberts, breaking the silence between them. He opened the door and Elizabeth found a tall brown-haired man lying in the bed. His head was shaved, probably from the surgical procedure; he looks to be in his late forties or early fifties. A quarter of the left side of his head was covered in bandages but Elizabeth could still see the softness and gentle visage of the man. He looked like an ordinary middle age white man, quite handsome actually, but not in a Hollywood-actor-handsome kind of way, more of a cute-shy-gentleman kind of way.

 

Elizabeth was snapped out her thoughts when she noticed a couple of scars on both the man’s arms. “These are not from the incident, are they?” Elizabeth pointed at the scars.

 

“You have good eyes, Ms. Aubrey. No, they are not from the incidents. Strangely enough, this man’s _whole_ body was literally covered in scars. Some of them appears to be stab wounds, I even found a couple of gunshot wounds” Dr. Roberts lifted the man’s hospital scrub to show Elizabeth the man’s torso. He was not kidding. It’s quite frightening how the body of this soft and gentle looking was almost tattooed in scars, thought Elizabeth.

 

“Holy fuck!” Eric hissed as he looked at the man’s torso.

 

“He must be from the army… or some sort of military organization” said Elizabeth as she took a closer look at the scars.

 

“Lizzie, I have a cousin who’s been serving for 10 years and practically lived through every wars in this decade, even _he_ doesn’t have a body like that!”

 

 _Eric is right_ , Elizabeth thought. Even the most active army men wouldn’t be wounded this badly and still survived. This would explain how he survived the massacre. If he could survive all of these wounds, he could easily survive the massacre. But who shot him then? He was found _outside_ the church. That means he had managed to kill the rest of the group–or the group managed to kill each other and he was strong enough to withstand all the attacks–got out of the church and was shot by someone who was _not_ affected by IPS. Elizabeth was sure of this because there were no reports of IPS occurrences around the neighborhood when the massacre was happening.

 

“Dr. Robert, do you think the people in the church was experiencing IPS?”

 

The question took the doctor by surprise but it looked like the idea was familiar to him. “I have considered that, yes. But we can’t be sure because the thing about IPS, it doesn’t leave any trace of abnormal chemical reactions or scarring in the brain”.

 

It was generally thought that IPS was a global plague, but if this massacre really was caused by IPS then that means the syndrome can be triggered and _controlled_.

 

“When do you think he will wake up, Doctor?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“I can’t say. He’s stable, but in coma right now. It could be tomorrow, three days from now, or even months”.

 

Elizabeth thought for a moment. This man might hold the key to uncovering _who_ the person–or party–behind the Rogue Monday. “Is he stable enough for a transfer?” asked Elizabeth.

 

The doctor raised an eyebrow at her. “I suppose yes. It’s been a week since his operation, so, yes, he’s stable enough”.

 

“Good. Then we’ll arrange a transfer to New York as soon as possible”. Elizabeth turned to Eric who gave her a _wait, what?!_ look and said “Eric can you please call Jimmy to arrange the transfer for our mystery man?”

 

Eric grumbled and reached for his phone, “Fine”.

 

“Ms. Aubrey” said the Doctor. “Yes, Doctor?”

 

“I need to warn you, even if he does wake up, there is no guarantee that he could provide you with any accurate information given the nature of his wound”.

 

“What do you mean, Doctor?” inquired Elizabeth.

 

“Well, with cases such as this, it’s very likely that when the patient wake up, they would suffer from amnesia, speech disability, motor control problems and many other traumas” explained the doctor.

 

A concerned look suddenly appears on Elizabeth’s face. She hushed the thought away. “It’s alright, Doctor. We’ll take whatever chances we could get”.

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth and Eric headed to the Glade Mission church to see the crime scene first hand.

 

“Jesus Christ”, Eric hissed in disgust. “They haven’t clean up the blood!––OH MY GOD! I THINK I JUST STEPPED ON BRAIN MATTERS”

 

Elizabeth ignored Eric's hysteria and looked around the room, calmly inspecting the scene, as she has gotten familiar with the aftermath of IPS incidents. She noticed a CCTV camera placed on all the corners of the church.

 

“There are four CCTV cameras here. I don’t remember any mentions of footage in the log” said Elizabeth.

 

“That’s because there was none to be found” a voice suddenly appeared from the direction of the church’s front door. “Tom Barrell, Kentucky State Police” he introduced himself as he shook Elizabeth and Eric’s hands.

 

“Mr. Barrell, thank you for coming” greeted Elizabeth.

 

“No problem, always glad to help” Tom smiled at Elizabeth. “You inquired about the footage. Well, we noticed the CCTV too but we couldn’t find the terminal in any room in this church. We suspect that the CCTV was transmitted to another place outside the church”.

 

“It’s not really an advanced model, so the terminal shouldn’t be too far from here. Have you checked the perimeter?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“We have. We found nothing, unfortunately”.

 

The fact that there was a CCTV in the area and no footage to be found means that whoever was watching was smart. _Someone was watching_ … Elizabeth repeated the thought in her head. _Or maybe even analyzing? Was this an experiment?! A simulation for the Rogue Monday?_ Elizabeth shuddered at the thought. _What kind of person would orchestrate such barbarous thing?! That man better woke up soon._

* * *

 

The nurse was checking the mystery man’s vital and changing the IV with the new one when she heard a soft groan. It pulled her into a pause.

 

“Sir?!” asked her.

 

The man tried to open his eyes and opened his mouth. “Thirs–… water…”

 

“Water! Of course! Sorry sir!” the nurse said as she poured a glass of water and put it close to Harry’s mouth.

 

The man’s weak hand grabbed the glass and sipped the water with a heavy sigh.

 

“You just wait there, sir! I’m gonna grab the doctor!” the nurse ran outside the room.

 

The man put the glass of water on the table beside his bed. He scanned his surroundings. _A nurse? I’m in… a hospital? …where? How did I…_

The man’s thought was intervened as the nurse came back into the room with a doctor. “Good morning, sir! Glad to see you awake, finally.” greeted the Doctor.  _Finally?_

 

“My name is Dr. Steven. You are now being treated at New York-Presbyterian University Hospital of Columbia and Cornell”

 

“New York…?” whispered the man, still in a daze. _How did I get to New York…_

 

“Yes, New York. I’m afraid you have been in a coma for about a month now, sir” the doctor swung flashlight on the man’s eyes. “Left pupil’s reaction is normal, the right one is not responding”.

 

“I was… in a coma?” asked the man. Still confused of everything that was happening.

 

“Yes, sir. You were shot at the head and the injury put you in a coma. We have successfully retrieved the bullet–“

 

The man suddenly felt a flash of throbbing pain in his head and he could hear the sound of a gunshot ringing in his head. “Uggghhh…” he tried to massage his right temple to ease the pain.

 

“Sir?” the doctor leaned forward to Harry. “Are you okay? What are you feeling right now?”

 

“My head… it hurts…”

 

“Headache is quite normal to experience in your condition. Please refrain from touching the wound in your right temple as it’s still healing” said the doctor as he took the man’s hand off his temple.

 

“Sir, I need you tell me your name. The police didn’t find any identification when they found you”.

 

“My… name? I…” the man tried to think… _My name? What’s my name…_ He closed his eyes and tried to reach the abyss of his consciousness, but found nothing.

 

“I… I… don’t know… I don’t know my name” Dr. Steven turned to his nurse with a concerned look on his face.

 

 _W_ _hy can’t I remember my name?!_ Suddenly it was getting hard for him to breath, he could feel cold sweats running down his back, he felt dizzy. “I don't… I can’t remember…” He was panting. “Why can’t I… remember?”

 

The machine beside the man’s bed started beeping. The doctor was alarmed. “His bp and heart rate is rising. He’s having a panic attack–nurse, get me a 10mg Diazepam.”

 

“Sir, I need you to calm down”.

 

“Why...” the man’s breathing was getting short. “…can’t I remember? I… Oh God…”

 

“It’s alright, sir. Everything’s going to be alright”, said the doctor as he took a syringe with a dose of Diazepam from the nurse.

 

He injected the medicine into the IV line “It’s alright, sir. Concentrate on your breathing… and just…relax…”

 

The doctor turned to his nurse with a stern look. He whispered, “Call the FBI”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about Harry only showing up late at the end, but I feel like I need to establish the condition of the world after the V-Day and how they would react to it, you know? 
> 
> And all the hospital names & drug were the product of Googling, so feel free to tell me if I got anything wrong. Anyway, thanks for reading and stay tune for more!


	2. It's a K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry met the FBI agents that found him and discovered that he might not be just an "ordinary" man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! I'm on fire today! 2 chapters in one day! LOL. Anyway, I love this chapter, you will get to see just how vulnerable amnesiac!Harry is ;) Also there's a bonus of shirtless Harry drawing I made in this chapter. I think every chapter in this fic will be accompanied by a drawing from now.

“Jesus, Lizzie! You almost hit that Mercedes! Slow it down a bit! That man isn’t going anywhere” shouted Eric as he gripped tight the handle above the car’s window.

 

Elizabeth did not even look at him and kept the car running in its maximum speed. Their mystery man has finally woken up, after _one whole month_ , so, no, she is _not_ going to slow down.

 

They parked in a rush, with Elizabeth almost bumping the car beside hers and leaving no space for Eric to get out from his door side.

 

“For God’s sake…” Eric grumbled as he crawled from the left door.

 

* * *

 

 

“Dr. Stevens!” shouted Elizabeth from across the hall, louder than she intended.

 

The doctor looked up and walked towards her. “Agent Aubrey”.

 

“You said the man has woken up? How is he? Has he said anything?” asked Elizabeth with a short breath after half-running from the parking lot to the 5th floor. Eric looked like he was going to faint behind her.

 

The doctor looked at her and paused to pick the correct words. “He’s woken up… but…”

 

“But? Is there any problem?” _Oh no, what now?!_ Thought Elizabeth.

 

“It seems that your mystery man is suffering from amnesia… just as we expected.” There’s a look of sympathy on his face. “I’m sorry, Agent Aubrey”.

 

Elizabeth starred at the doctor with her mouth wide open. “Wait, what? You mean–so he doesn’t remember? Does he not remember anything or just the incident in the church?”

 

“He doesn’t remember quite anything about himself. Don’t even remember his own name. I can’t say for sure _how much_ he remembers… We need to run a few test to determine that”

 

Elizabeth put her right hand on her hip and pinched her glabella with her left. She made a half-circle turn with heavy panting sigh. “FUCK!!!” she shouted.

“Hey, hey! Calm down Lizzie!” said Eric as he walked towards her.

 

“Even if he doesn’t remember now there’s still a chance that he would recover his memory, right doctor?” Eric turned his face to the doctor as he puts his hands on Elizabeth’s shoulder.

 

“I can’t really answer that… some amnesia patients _could_ retrieve their old memories, but there are many cases in which the old memories are lost forever too”

 

Eric looked at the doctor with a grumpy face. “You’re not really helping here, Doctor…”

 

“Sorry, but I’m just stating the facts…”

 

“Can we see him?” asked Elizabeth with a sigh.

 

“Yes, of course. This way.”

 

* * *

 

It has been a month since Elizabeth last saw her mystery man. She never bothered going for a routine check to the hospital as there were already tons of work piling up at the office as the numbers of criminal activities hiked after the Rogue Monday. So she was quite surprised to see the man awake, with his bandages off and a set of full brown hair with a faint streak of grey and his eyes opened.

 

“Hello, sir. Much calmer now, are we?” Dr. Steven greeted the man with a lovely tone.

 

The man looked at them with a hollow stare and nodded.

 

“I want you to meet these nice people from the FBI. This is Special Agent Elizabeth Aubrey and Eric Lucas”.

 

Elizabeth noticed that the man wasn’t surprised by the mention of ‘FBI’. _Interesting_. She tried her best to smile and offered her hand, “Hi, I’m Elizabeth”.

 

The man stared at Elizabeth’s hand for a few seconds with a faint worried look. He then shifted his eyes at Dr. Steven as if looking for assurance to which he replied with smile and a nod.

 

“Hello…” He shook Elizabeth’s hand. It was a strong and firm shake for such a soft and gentle hand, thought Elizabeth. Eric offered his hand too afterwards.

 

“I’m going to leave you here Agent Aubrey and Agent Lucas, okay? They’re just going to ask you a few questions” Dr. Steven smiled at the man as he put his hand on his shoulder.

 

The man looked at him in a pleading protest but decided to cooperate in the end.

 

“Please go easy on him, he just had a panic attack this morning” whispered Dr. Steven as he passed Elizabeth and Eric on his way to the door. _Damn, can’t show the fucking crime scene photos, then._

 

“So, Dr. Steven told me that you can’t remember your name” said Elizabeth with a calmer tone than the one she used in the hallway.

 

“It seems so…” said the man while avoiding Elizabeth’s gaze.

 

“Your accent… Are you from the UK, sir?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“I… I guess that would be the logical way to look at it…” the man crossed his arms together, he was starting to look a bit restless.

 

“Are you confirming that you _are_ from the UK or are you just guessing like us? I mean, do you _actually_ remember living there?” asked Eric.

 

“No.. I don’t remember…” Elizabeth could feel the man’s clutches on his own arms were tightening.

 

“Sir, can you have a look at these, please?” asked Elizabeth as she handed the man a couple of photos. The man took it hesitantly.

 

“This is the clothes that you were wearing the day you were found outside the Glade Mission church in Kentucky––“

 

“Kentucky?” the man asked as he looked at Elizabeth in the eye for the first time. Elizabeth took a moment to look at the soft caramel brown color on his left eye and the hazy greyish color on his right. The scar from his operation was carved from his right temple right through his eyes and about an inch below it. _Such a waste of a nice face_ , thought Elizabeth. The man noticed Elizabeth’s glare on his scar and shifted his face reactively. He then decided to place his stare at the photos on his lap. That snapped Elizabeth out of her thought. She felt rude for staring.

 

“Yes, you were found in Kentucky. There was… let’s say, an incident––”

 

“A massacre” Eric quipped. Elizabeth glared at him. “What?” he shrugged.

 

The man stared both at Elizabeth and Eric worriedly, looking for explanation. Elizabeth remembered what Dr. Steven has said and decided that the topic might be too much for now.

 

“We can talk about that later. First, we need your help to identify who you are.”

 

“We found a recurring symbol on your attires that might hold a clue on figuring out your identity. It was embroidered in the lining of your suit, engraved on the cufflinks, the side of your glasses, the back of your watch––and even at the bottom of your shoe heels. It’s this… well, it looks kinda like a peace sign to me” Elizabeth pointed at the photos.

 

“It’s a tilted ‘K’ on a circle”, said the man and he suddenly looked just as surprised as Elizabeth at how swift and sure his answer was.

 

“You remember this symbol? You know what it means?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“I don’t know what it means… I just… I just somehow know that it’s a ‘K’…” The man looked like he did not quite know how to explain what just happened inside of his head himself.

 

“Great, so you can’t remember your name but you remember a ‘K’?!” grunted Eric.

 

“I’m sorry…” said the man, a little surprised and afraid at Eric’s words.

 

Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. “Would you excuse us for a moment, sir? I need to talk privately with my partner outside”. The man nodded.

 

“Eric!” Elizabeth looked at Eric and hinted at the door. Eric followed her unwillingly. She closed the door as they got outside.

 

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Elizabeth snapped.

 

“The fuck is wrong with _me_?! Lizzie, your fucking guy had us waiting for ONE MONTH and all he could remember is tilted fucking K?!” shouted Eric.

 

“Christ, Eric! Keep it down! We’re in a fucking hospital!” Elizabeth hissed.

 

Eric’s face had gone red and his jaw clenched as he was shaking his head. “One whole month… “ he chuckled sarcastically. “And for your information, it was _really_ hard to get the approval for his medical treatment, here you know. You had to fucking chose the best hospital in New York!”

 

Elizabeth didn’t reply. She knew that she was asking a lot by transferring the man here.

 

“I mean––how do you even know that he really doesn’t remember? What if––what if he’s lying!”

 

The idea never crossed Elizabeth’s mind before, but it’s a risk they shouldn’t miss out. “That’s a good point. Maybe we could do polygraph test tomorrow after the doctor runs a few tests––“

 

Elizabeth was finishing her sentence when she heard a sound of a metal clanking from inside the room.

 

* * *

  

The man watched the two FBI agents as they left his room with a guilty look. But he quickly abandoned the thought and decided to focus on a more pressing discoveries about himself. When the two agents came into the room with the doctor, he immediately knew that they were from the FBI. It was like a reflex. His eyes just automatically scanned them from head to toes, and he could recognize the belt which was tilted unbalanced at one side leading him to believe that it was carrying a gun holster. Then his thought suddenly eliminated the possibility that they were just normal detective by inspecting their attires.

 

 _Christ… How did I do that… It felt like a reflex…_ _almost like a muscle memory_ , thought the man. _And the tilted bloody “K”… what was THAT?_ The words just spurted out his mouth. He was massaging his temple again when he noticed a scar on his left arm.

 

It was quite a long scar about 10 centimeters long. As the man used his right hand to feel the scar, his sleeve was getting pushed back and he caught the sight of another long scar. _Were these… from the massacre? These looks like knife wounds… wait, how could I–_ his thought was intervened as his eyes glanced upon another scar on his right arm.

 

The man pushed back both of his sleeves and found more scars. Shocked at the sight. He got up from his bed and walked towards the mirror in his room. He took off his hospital shirt and looked in the mirror.

 

There was a numbness feeling… it was a mix of horror and shock as the man stared his own reflection in the mirror. His body was _covered_ in scars. He recognized some of the wounds as gunshot wounds––no, he could literally categorize each wound in sight––there was a wound that he thought looked like the aftermath of a grenade blast.

 

 _Who… who did this to me?!_ as he rubbed his hands against one of the longest knife wound on his abdomen. _No… a normal person…_ The man could feel his heart started racing again. His chest was starting to hurt. _This––a normal person… would not have so many scars on their body like this…_ It was getting harder for him to breath. _Who was I? What did I do?!_ He gasped for air. _These scars… Did I… hurt people?_

He could feel himself loosing control of his legs. _Was I a bad person?_ He felt his strength leaving his body as he dropped on the floor, knocking down his IV pole. He felt the liquid warmth of his tear as it slid down his face. He clasped on the foot of his bed for support as he gasped for air.

 

_Who am I?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, the interrogation would only become more tense as Harry discovered more about himself.


	3. George Falconer

Elizabeth found the man lying on the floor, shirtless with all of his scars exposed, gasping for air with the last grip of his strength. His hands clasped and eyes wide open––red with tears streaming down that horrendous scar. She ran towards him but kept her distance as she remembered that any physical contact would often make the episode worsen. “Eric, get the doctor!”

 

“Sir, please try to concentrate on you breathing… It’s alright… you can get through this” said Elizabeth softly as she crouched down beside him. The man grabbed Elizabeth’s arms, his hands were cold and his face was so pale.

 

“I––scars…”  _Scars?_ His lips trembled as he gathered the strength to utter his words. “Ma… massacre… did… I—“

 

Elizabeth looked at him and saw a wounded creature horrified by the beast he thought he once was. He must have been shocked to see his body all covered in scars. She gently rubbed the man’s hands that were grabbing her arms.

 

“No… it was not your fault… “

 

 _It was not everyone’s vault but whoever the devil behind this said Elizabeth to herself_.

 

“You weren’t in control of yourself and so was everyone in the church. It was not anyone’s fault…”

 

Elizabeth heard running steps from outside the room and Dr. Stevens came barging in with a nurse a few seconds later, Eric followed behind him. He promptly put the IV pole back in place and injected it with a syringe.

 

The man’s breathing started to slow down and his eyes drifted.

 

Dr. Steven let out a heavy sigh and turned to face Elizabeth. “I thought I told you to go easy on him…”

  

* * *

 

 

Elizabeth had to wait for a week before Dr. Steven would let her and Eric get near the man again. By that time the doctor has already finished running all the necessary tests on him and had allowed him to be released from his care.

 

“Your man turns out to be quite the athlete.”

 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the doctor.

 

“I kept him on the treadmill for almost _an hour_ and his breathing was still perfectly paced by the end of it! Quite remarkable for someone his age, not to mention he has impeccable reflexes.”

 

“What about his memory? Has he remembered anything since I last time?” asked Elizabeth impatiently.

 

“Unfortunately no, although his procedural memory seems to be perfectly in tact. He still remembers all of the basic skills and motor functions”.

 

Elizabeth sighed. “Is there anything that we could do to help him recover his memories?”

 

“Like hitting him in the head perhaps?” sneered Eric. Elizabeth and Dr. Steven pretended they didn’t hear that.

 

“There is no certain treatments or cure for amnesia so far. But there are cases in which showing pictures of the patient’s life before the accident with his friends or families could help” explained the doctor. “Although it’s not really an option for your man. You still can’t figure out who he is, can you?”

 

“No…” said Elizabeth exasperatedly. She has literally looked everywhere. She’s even asked her CIA friend to ID his fingerprints; DNA, facial recognition, and nothing came up. _It’s like he’s a ghost_.

 

“There might be one thing you could do…” said the doctor. “But I can’t really guarantee that it would work––“

 

“I’ll take any chances, doctor” said Elizabeth getting desperate.

 

“Well, sometimes taking the patient to his home, or places that he previously resided in… somewhere he might be familiar with––” explained the doctor hesitantly as he seemed to be unsure of his own idea.

 

“Do you mean I should take him to England?” Elizabeth blinks.

 

The doctor shrugged. “You asked me for ideas”.

 

Elizabeth turned to Eric and found him rolling his eyes. “What do you think, Eric?”

 

“Wait, you’re not seriously considering this?!”

 

“Well, it’s worth a try, unless you have any better suggestion!” said Elizabeth, starting to get annoyed by Eric’s attitude.

 

Eric grunted. “You’re impossible, Lizzie”.

 

“We’ll take him to the HQ for the polygraph test first and we’ll see from there. If he really is truthful about not remembering anything… we’ll take him to England” said Elizabeth in a calm commanding tone.

 

“Huh. Goodluck getting the Director’s approval for that”.

 

* * *

 

 

The man was silent during the car ride to the FBI headquarters. His thought was predisposed by the discoveries of his abnormal physical abilities that were demonstrated during the test. The doctor stopped him after an hour of treadmill but he felt like he still had the strength to run for another hour.

 

And his reflex test went by even more peculiar. He felt like everything moved in slow motion. It was so easy for him to catch all the objects that were thrown at him; it was like he could feel the vibration of the objects moving towards him on the air before even seeing it with his own eyes. His senses were so alarmed and guarded. Again, he wondered what he could have done in the past to give him such strength and agility… and the scars… _Was I in the army? But If I were, then the FBI could have easily found my record_.

 

His thought was intruded as the car pulled into a stop. They have arrived at the FBI headquarter.

 

“Come on, we’re here” Elizabeth smiled at him as she opened the door.

 

The man walked the lobby nervously, very much aware of all the stares that were directed at him. He could feel all the people’s gaze at his scar. He has tried to hide it by letting his fringe fall down on his right temple, but the bloody scar was so long that it was still apparent despite the effort.

 

Elizabeth ushered the man into a small room with gigantic two-way mirror on the right side of the wall. Then a man––that looks to be some sort of technician––came in and brought a device that he recognized as a computerized polygraph. If he was surprised by how he could have known that bit of information, he didn’t show it.

 

“So, we are going to do a polygraph test on you. “ explained Elizabeth. “We’re just going to ask you some questions and we’re going to need you to answer them. And please let us know if you start feeling a bit unwell”.

 

The man nodded. Elizabeth sat herself down in front of the laptop. Eric strapped down the device on the man and then walked to Elizabeth’s side to stand behind her.

 

“We’re going to start now” said Elizabeth. The man gave her his consent.

 

“Please tell us your name”

 

“I don’t know. I can’t remember my name” the man said calmly. Elizabeth and Eric stared at the laptop screen with a faint of disappointment.

 

“Can you tell us what did you do before this incident?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“No, I can’t remember”

 

Eric then slid a couple of photos to the man’s side and asked, “Can you remember that?”

 

The man took the photo and inspected it carefully. There were dead bodies everywhere, they were lying in a place that looks like…. A church. _Church? The massacre?_ “Is this the massacre that you mentioned?” the man looked up and directed his question to Eric.

 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be able to handle looking at the photo very well, sir, considering the brutal scene in it. Are you used to seeing those kinds of scenes?”

 

The question caught the man off guard. He did not realize it before, but Elizabeth was right. He was not disturbed or put off at all by the scene. He didn’t think much of all the blood and dead bodies. Instead he focused more on the little details that would inform him of the location and the cause of death. It was as if the dead bodies were only a flickering slide show to him.

 

“I… I don’t know… I just––I didn’t put much thought into it.” He just realized how unusual his reaction was. Normal people would have been terrified at the scene and yet he was busy looking for clues.

 

“Hmm. That’s interesting” Elizabeth turned to Eric who by then was getting more and more suspicious at the man.

 

“To answer your question, yes, that photo was taken from the massacre that happened at the Glade Mission Church. You were found lying on the ground _outside_ the church with a gunshot wound that appeared to be shot at point blank”. Elizabeth explained while carefully watching the man’s reaction to every bit of information that she was giving him.

 

The man could feel Elizabeth and Eric’s gaze so he kept a straight face. He was not even aware that he was purposely doing it; it felt like an instant defense mechanism, until something occurred to him. “I was _outside_ the church… That means I managed to get out of that massacre… Did I… kill all those people?”

 

“We can’t be sure, there was no witness and we couldn’t find any footage. But some of the victims’ blood was found on your clothes and hands”. Elizabeth noticed the same horrified look on the man’s face. She proceeded to explain to him about Rogue Monday and IPS, she didn’t want him to have an episode again. The man’s face seemed to relax a bit as he digested the information.

 

“Have you found the person behind this?” asked the man.

 

Elizabeth and Eric was so surprised at the question that they had to compose their posture afterwards. “What makes you think there _was_ someone behind it? Even the CIA still doesn’t know what happened”.

 

“Well, you said that this Instant Psychotic Syndrome was happening worldwide at the same exact time. Even if some sort of airborne virus triggered it, it couldn’t have had spread _that_ fast, and it would not have been that precise. So someone must be behind…” the man paused, his eyes widened as he looked up to Elizabeth.

 

“The man that shot me… You said I was shot _outside_ the church. Whoever shot me must not be affected the IPS––is this why you’re interrogating me? You think the man that shot me was behind this… Rogue Monday?”

 

Elizabeth and Eric shared an alarmed look and looked back at the man as if he was crazy. “That was… an abnormally fast analytic thinking you got there, sir. Almost creepy” said Eric. “But… yes, you’re right. Elizabeth here thinks whoever shot you could be the culprit behind the Rogue Monday”.

 

Elizabeth checked the monitor again, the man’s pulse is still normal. Too normal. “You seem to have the talent for analytics, sir. And Dr. Steven told me that you have amazing physical abilities… Do you think that you might be a former member of some military organization?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“That was my first guest when…” the man took a deep breath “when I first saw the scars on my body. But… If I were in the military, you wouldn’t have any problems finding my records, would you?”

 

Eric raised an eyebrow and turned to Elizabeth, “He’s good”. He sneered.

 

Elizabeth let out a deep breath as she looked at the monitor. All the signs are still stable. “Would you excuse us, sir? My partner and I need to talk outside”.

 

The man nodded. Elizabeth and Eric went outside, over to the room behind the two-way mirror. A tall black man was standing in the room with his hands crossed and eyes still staring at the man on the other side.

 

“Director Cooper”, greeted Elizabeth.

 

“Aubrey”, said Director Cooper without loosing his gaze on the man. “You think he’s telling the truth?”

 

“Well, the machine said he is. But… I think there’s more to his reactions than the ones he was showing. His replies and expressions seem to be picked carefully––controlled even. And his analytical thinking was unusually amazing. Whoever he was… He wasn’t just some regular guy. Are you sure the CIA really couldn’t find him on any database? The MI6 perhaps?” asked Elizabeth persistently.

 

“No, they’ve checked there too. What’s your plan with him, now, Aubrey?” He turned to Elizabeth.

 

“Well, sir, his Doctor said bringing him to a familiar location might help him recover his memories”.

 

“You want to take him to England?” asked the director with a straight face.

 

“Yes, sir.” Elizabeth knew she was already asking for a lot with keeping the man in the hospital for so long, but she’s put too much effort into this to just let this case go.

 

The director took a second look at the man who was still strapped to the polygraph machine inside the room. “Fine. He’s going to need identity then, sort that out with Jimmy”.

 

If Elizabeth and Eric were surprised at the instant unexpected approval of their Director, they hid it well. Eric waited until the director got out of the room before making a smart quip. “Well, that was easy”.

 

* * *

 

 

“George Falconer?” the man read the name on the passport that Elizabeth just gave him.

 

“Yes. I’m going to take you to London so you’re going to need an identity. Dr. Steven suggested that being in a familiar place might help you recover your memories, and because the only thing we know about you is that you’re English, that’s where we’re going to start” explained Elizabeth.

 

“Our team has arranged a background story along with your new identity, so I suggest you get yourself familiar with it, _George_ ”. She smiled at him.

 

The man took the file and read it. “I’m an Englishman who has become an American citizen for 10 years… 1965? You think I’m 50?”

 

“That’s what the doctor guessed. Although I thought you were younger than that. You seem really fit for a man your age”

 

The man smiled at her as he took in the compliment. “When are we leaving?”

 

“In about 10 minutes”.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it was important to establish that Harry's training as Kingsman was so embedded into his subconscious that they were stored more like a muscle memory. That's basically what this chapter is about.
> 
> Also, I didn't have time to draw anything this week... sorry ^^"


	4. Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry went to London with Elizabeth in efforts to help him recover his memories. He remembered one thing. A name.

“Galahad, Lancelot, welcome back” greeted Merlin as Eggsy and Roxy came off the helicopter that was now parked on the infamous Kingsman “K”. Both of the agents made a show of scanning around their new unfamiliar surrounding with a sharp observation.

 

“Where exactly are we, Merlin?” asked Roxy.

 

“We are somewhere in Chesire, about one hour drive from Manchester” answered Merlin with his firm Scottish brogue which both agents had now come to admire, as it has accompanied them throughout what seemed like endless stream of missions ever since V-Day.

 

“Chesire?! Christ Merlin, we’re like 3 hours away from London. How am I suppose to go back and forth to visit me mum and sister?” asked Eggsy.

 

“Don’t worry, Eggsy. Our new bullet train is designed to be able to reach London in approximately 30 minutes––although I might need to do some adjustment to the interiors as all of our technicians who went on the first try threw up as soon as they left the capsule” explained Merlin as he wrote down a new note on his pad, reminding him to do the task mentioned.

 

“Alright, that’s cool. Whose house this is then?” asked Eggsy as his eyes survey the humongous mansion in front of him that looks just like that Pemberley house from Pride & Prejudice TV series.

 

“This mansion belongs to the Hart family” said Merlin plainly as he joined the agents in appreciating the enormous beauty of the mansion. Merlin's words however put the agents into a startle as both of them turned to him in synergy.

 

“This Harry’s house?!" asked Eggsy in disbelief. Merlin nodded plainly in response. "Bloody hell I didn’t know he was this rich” Eggsy stared at the mansion again, now with his mouth opened.

 

“Yes, Harry stated in his will that in the event of his death the ownership of the mansion would be passed on to me… So, I’m using it for our new base now”.

 

Eggsy could feel a slight sadness still lingering on Merlin’s words. It has not been more than a month since Harry’s death after all. Eggsy could keep himself busy and forget all about Harry’s death with all the chaos of missions, but he can’t imagine what Merlin had to go through by staying in this mansion. There’s probably a painting or a picture of Harry somewhere still hanging on the wall.

 

They walked the ground in silence. Eggsy still remembered V-day like it was just yesterday. Both Merlin and him thought it was a good idea to blow up everyone’s head with Valentine’s chip, but they hadn’t expected that literally _all_ of the nations leaders were in on it. Merlin and the remaining knights decided that it would be unwise to tell the world about what had happened as it was already chaos enough that the world was left with no leaders, God knows what would happen if people knew that their leaders agreed to the idea that wiping half of the population of the world was the solution to global warming.

 

Instead, Merlin proposed Kingsman should prioritize more on destroying every possible remaining records of Valentine’s technology, including all the sim cards that have already been distributed throughout the world. They couldn’t risk the chance of some other megalomaniac stumbling upon the technology and creating another V-Day, or something even worse. So all the knights had been traveling around the globe destroying Valentine’s factories and Merlin figured out a way to make Valentine Corp.’s board of directors to pull back all the sim cards from the customers.

 

Apparently the only people in Valentine Corp. that knew about Valentine’s plan was only Gazelle and his assistant. That helped Merlin a lot in covering up the story. But it was quite tedious that Eggsy had to shoot all the people that Valentine has kidnapped one by one with the amnesia dart. It was not all work though, as Eggsy got to meet a lot of celebrities and he even took a selfie with Iggy Azalea! And now Eggsy just got back from India, where he and Roxy destroyed the last Valentine’s sim card factory and erased the memories of the scientists working there.

 

“So this is it then? We done with the whole Valentine business?” asked Eggsy as he broke the silence between the three of them.

 

“I certainly hope so. I have to do a final check up, but I think we’ve pretty much scrapped every bit of Valentine’s dust out there” said Merlin. He looked like he's aged years ever since the V-Day, Eggsy wondered if the man ever sleep at all. Merlin was always online no matter where Eggsy went in any part of the world.

 

“What’s our next action plan, then?” asked Roxy.

 

“Now, we start rebuilding our strength. We have this new headquarters. I've designed the security myself—I’m going to need you two to test it, by the way. Also, we’re relocating the tailor shop to Old Burlington Street under a different name. We'll need to decide on that once all the Knights are back from overseas”.

 

“Change the name? that’s a bit much ‘innit, Merlin? The only people Valentine told about us was probably Gazelle. 'sit really necessary?” said Eggsy.

 

“We can’t know for sure, Eggsy. I can't risk Kingsman to be compromised again, and I sure won't risk losing anymore Knights” said Merlin commandingly. His face froze as he took in a breath of air, realising the unbecoming tone that he just displayed to Eggsy. He chose to ignore the sudden burst of emotion and walked on.

 

“Alright then” Eggsy shrugged and followed beside him.

 

As traditions go, in case of a sudden termination or death of a seating Arthur, the Merlin in charge would become sort of the _Arthur pro tempore_ until all the knights have decided to vote on who the new Arthur would be. But they had been so busy that there was no time for such procedure. So Merlin has been in charge since.

 

Merlin decided to break the silence and started a new topic. “I’m also going to start a new recruitment process next week for the new Gawain. Don’t forget to propose a candidate _”_ he raised his brow at Eggsy, "You too, Eggsy". Eggsy let out a soft groan.

 

“I’m going to show you around the mansion now, after that, you are dismissed. You could even try our new bullet train back to London!” Merlin said with a little bit of excitement.

 

* * *

 

 _Worst. Idea. Ever_. Eggsy thought as he wiped his mouth from the stains of his puke.

 

“Merlin, you better invented a bloody flying car or something cause I _ain’t ever_ taking that fucking train again!” Eggsy grunted as he tried to compose himself.

 

Merlin chuckled over the comm. “Don’t be too dramatic, Eggsy. It just needs some interior adjustment and it’ll be so comfortable that you could fall asleep on your next travel”.

 

“It better be!” answered Eggsy, still annoyed by the experience. “You up for a drink, Rox?” asked Eggsy to Roxy who handled the journey better than him. 

 

“You just threw up half of the inside of your stomach and you want to get a drink now?” Roxy gave him an incredulous look.

 

“Yea well, exactly why I need to fill up again, innit?” Roxy shook her head and smile “alright, let’s get you a drink”. They walked towards an elevator that looks almost exactly like the fitting room elevator in the old shop.

 

“I’m going to sign off, now. Have a nice day, you two. Get a good rest. Tomorrow, I’d like you to come in and test the security system” said Merlin.

 

“Understood. Bye, Merlin” said Roxy.

 

“You get some sleep too, yeah Merlin? You looked like a vampire just now” said Eggsy genuinely worried.

 

Merlin gave in a quiet laugh. “Alright Eggsy” and he switched off the comm.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, are we just going to walk around until I remember something or do you actually have some plan sorted out?” the man, who then went by the name George, asked Elizabeth with a smile.

 

“I do actually. I thought we’ll start by searching for your tailor, the one with the _tilted K”_ answered Elizabeth.

 

“Of course, I thought so too. Are we going to Saville Row then?” the man asked letting out a little bit of excitement.

 

“Yes…” Elizabeth looked at him suspiciously. “How do you know exactly that we would go to Saville Row to look for tailors?”

 

The man paused. “You know… I don’t really know. It just popped up inside my head. The same like how I still know how to read, or to tie my shoes. I think Dr. Steven called it procedural memories”.

 

“How is going to a tailor shop a procedural memory to you?” asked Elizabeth curiously.

 

“Maybe I was a tailor? Or the other option would be that I had an expensive habit of making a bespoke suit at least once a month”. The man let out a small laugh, which Elizabeth thought was kind of adorable. It sounded more like a repressed giggle than a laugh.

 

“Come on, we’re taking a cab” said Elizabeth as she led then towards the taxi stand. The man followed behind her, and only stepping forward to open the door once they had reached the taxi.

 

“After you, Ms. Aubrey” he smiled at her. Elizabeth was a bit surprised at his little act of courtesy and tried to hide her blush as best as she could.

 

* * *

 

 

The man spent half of the journey taking in the sceneries outside the car’s window. Everything looks so oddly familiar and yet he couldn’t place any memories. He felt like he wouldn’t get lost even if Elizabeth were to left here there in the city, but he wouldn’t know where to find a place which he’d call home. The thought made him quite sad.

 

“What’s wrong, George?” asked Elizabeth. The man didn’t reply. “George?”

 

“Oh! Sorry, what was it you asked?” The man was still not used to his new name. _George… of course. That’s my name, now_.

 

“I asked if there’s something wrong” said Elizabeth, looking a bit worried.

 

“No, it’s nothing really… It’s just… everything looks so familiar and yet I don’t even know where my home is” He made a weak attempt at smiling but failed miserably.

 

“Hey… it’s gonna be alright, George. You just need some time, you’ll remember everything eventually” Elizabeth tried to cheer him up but failed just as badly, and they fell into an awkward silence.

 

“By the way, I haven’t asked you, do you like the name? I mean––I might be able to change it, if you don’t like it” asked Elizabeth.

 

“No, I quite like the name actually. I don’t mind being called George Falconer... But thank you for the lovely offer, Ms. Aubrey” the main answered politely.

 

“Elizabeth.”

 

“Sorry?” asked the man.

 

“You can call me Elizabeth.”

 

The man smiled as he felt the first warmth of friendliness from Elizabeth. “Thank you, Elizabeth”.

 

* * *

 

The man and Elizabeth had spent about half an hour walking down the Saville Row. They would go into every shop they passed, browsed the store a little, chatted with the tailors inside to see if any of them recognise him and then politely excused themselves once Elizabeth was sure that they don’t. The man didn’t mind the outing at all, as he enjoyed browsing the fabrics displayed and was somehow relaxed by the smell of fresh wool and tweed within the room. He even almost felt strangely at home. _Maybe I really was a tailor_ , he thought.

 

Elizabeth on the other hand, got bored almost exactly after their visit to 3rd shop. She would just stand in the corner or look around for a seat while the man browse the fabrics and chat with the tailors. He was quite impressed by the extensive knowledge and vocabularies of bespoke tailoring that seems to just blurt out of his mouth as he chatted with them.

 

“Let me guess, procedural memories?” asked Elizabeth as they got out of the 4th shop.

 

“It seems so…” the man noticed the unenthusiastic look on Elizabeth’s face as they walked towards the 5th shop. “Would you like to get a drink?”

 

“What?” the question caught Elizabeth a bit off guard.

 

“You seem a bit tired, would you like to rest a bit and get a drink?” the man smiled at her.

 

“Umm… maybe later. We should finish checking out all the shops first. That’s why we went here, after all”. Elizabeth was tempted by the offer but tried to be professional as she reminded herself that she was there on duty.

 

“As you wish” They continued their walk until the man noticed the sign on the window of the 5th shop, covering the lettering that seems to be the shop’s name. “This one is closed. The sign said they’ve moved to another location”.

 

“Does it say where to?” asked Elizabeth as she inspected the window of the shop.

 

“No, it only says that they’re going to announce the new place to their customers via email”.

 

“What’s the name of the shop? Maybe I could google it” Elizabeth took out her phone.

 

“Let me see…” the man noticed stains of glue left on the shop’s window forming some sort of word, but he could not make it out. _They must have scrapped it off_. He walked up to the door to see another version of the sign as he could read it closer from there.

 

“Ah! Here it is. Kingsman. It’s called _Kingsman_ ”.

  

* * *

 

Roxy could tell that Eggsy was getting tipsy as he started blurting about Harry and the last moment he saw him. His body sagged onto the chair and his voice came out like a whimper.

 

“He was so disappointed at me Roxy… and I—I said some nasty stuff at him... GOD! I was so fucking stupid! All he wanted… was for me to become a Kingsman… and now—“ Eggsy started to sob as he buried his face inside his crossed arms that were laid on the table.

 

“Eggsy…” Roxy got up and sat at Eggsy’s side. Roxy never expected that Eggsy would be this devastated. He was fine during the missions, his usual cheerful self, even. _The poor boy has been bottling it up until now_.

 

“Come now… whatever arguments you had with him, it’s in the past now. What matters is that you’re a Kingsman now—and a bloody good one, I might add”. Roxy put her hand on Eggsy’s shoulder and made a firm grip at it.

 

“Eggsy, look at me” ordered Roxy.

 

Eggsy looked away from Roxy to wipe his tears and then turned to her as ordered.

 

Roxy looked at him with her sharp eagle eyes. “Harry would be proud of you now. That’s the only thing that you need to remember, okay?”

 

Eggsy gave his eyes another wipe before putting on a faint smile. “Okay…”

 

“There you go” Roxy patted his back. “Come now, I think it’s time I get you home to your mom”.

 

“Alright…” Roxy helped Eggsy got up and they slowly made their way to the door. It was already night time when they got out, Roxy searched for the car keys in her bag as both of them walked towards her car which was parked just a couple of steps from the pub.

 

Roxy had to hold Eggsy’s head as he went in the car so that he wouldn’t bump into the door frame.

 

“Thanks Rox…” Eggsy whispered.

 

She was just starting the engine when a taxi drove pass them on the left and Eggsy jumped from his seat and startled her.

 

“Bloody hell, Eggsy! You scared me!” shouted Roxy.

 

“Rox… I think I saw Harry…” said Eggsy nervously.

 

“What?! ...Eggsy…”

 

“No, he was in that cab Rox!!! I swear it was him!!!”

 

Both of them stared at the taxi who by then has stopped in front of the pub. They waited for the passenger to get out.

 

“Just wait, he’ll come out of that taxi, you’ll see!” shouted Eggsy in anticipation.

 

They waited for a few seconds and the back door of the taxi opened. A woman with a long coat got out and paid the driver.

 

Eggsy sat there in silence and disappointment.

 

“You must be tired Eggsy… Let’s go home okay?” said Roxy with a worried look.

 

“I… I really thought it was him…” Eggsy sagged into the chair and fell into silence.

 

Roxy started the engine and backed up the car. “You just had a little bit too much to drink, Eggsy…. It’s alright. I’ll take you home, you get some rest, and everything will be alright in the morning”. She tried to smile at him as she turned the car around but Eggsy was still deep in his thought.

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth got out of the cab to pay the driver only to realise that George was still sound asleep inside.

 

“George!” she called. It didn’t work, he was still sleeping with his head leaning on the right window.

 

She crawled inside the car and gave his shoulder a little tug. “George!”

 

George made a little jump and bumped his head at the roof of the car. “Oh God! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Elizabeth apologised.

 

George had a quick look around. “We’re stopping here?”

 

“Yeah, you said you wanted to get a drink, right? Come on.” Elizabeth smiled at him. _The man deserved a few drinks after all that he’s been through these past few weeks_ , Elizabeth thought.

 

Elizabeth noticed a car backing up and turning around as George opened the taxi’s door. They walked inside the pub and found it to be quite crowded.

 

Elizabeth gestured at Harry to follow her to the bar. “What are you having?”

 

“I’ll have a pint of Guinness, please.” said the man without any hesitation or consideration.

 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. “Your favourite?”

 

George paused and squinted his eyes. “Umm…”

 

Elizabeth smiled at him. “Let me guess, another procedural memory?”

 

George chuckled. “I guess I must have been an avid drinker of Guinness” he shrugged.

 

* * *

 

An hour as passed, the man and Elizabeth were enjoying each other’s company more and more as they drank away their jetlag.

 

“Did you purposely tell the driver to go by Vauxhall so I got to see the MI6 headquarter?” the man asked playfully.

 

Elizabeth let out a chuckle and shrugged “Guilty”.

 

“You think I'm an MI6 agent? Really, Elizabeth? You think I’m a 50 year old spy? What, like James Bond and that sort of thing?” the man laughed.

 

“Hey, I’m not the one with a super analytical thinking and amazing reflex” said Elizabeth as she took another gulp of her drink.

 

The man could see that Elizabeth was getting tipsy. “Is that your assessment of me?” he asked with a coy smile.

 

She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. “Oh, _stop it_ ”. She took another gulp and noticed the time on her wristwatch. It was almost 1 am.

 

“Jesus, it’s late. We should go back to the hotel. We’re going for a walk around the city again in the morning”.

 

“Very well” said the man as they put on their coat and head to the door.

 

He walked ahead of her to open the door and turned to face her. “Thank you for the drink, Elizabeth” he said.

 

She paused, genuinely surprised at the man's gratitude. He made sure his eyes met hers as he wanted his gratitude to be received with clarity. “This was nice… I haven’t felt this relaxed in awhile. So, thank you”.

 

Elizabeth’s cheeks were beginning to reddened as she turned her face away and started walking out of the pub.

 

“I had a nice time too, George”.

 

* * *

 

They couldn’t find a taxi nearby so they decided to walk until one showed up. Both of them walked in silence, enjoying the cool breeze of night air under a bright moon.

 

The man breathed all the sceneries around him as they walked along the Lambeth bridge. He could see the London eye from there. He was curiously watching its shape when he felt a sharp throbbing pain in his head and a flash of images appeared before him.

_The sky was dark and the stars were flickering hazily in the sky. He felt his hand leaning on to the handle of the bridged as he breathed the cold foggy air. He checked his watch for the time. And he could feel the old sensation of restlessness._

_Suddenly a hand slipped between his hip and he felt a warmth embrace on his back, pulling him tight._

 

The image faded and the man was thrusted into reality again. He shook his head and groaned. The pain hasn't stopped..

 

“George? Are you okay?” the man could see Elizabeth was approaching him when the flashes hit again and blurred his vision.

 

_He felt a warm wet touch of lips on his neck and a chilling breath. He turned around to face the character behind those kisses but he couldn’t make out the face… It was somehow blurred. He leaned forward to the mysterious character for a kiss and he could feel the strong diamond cut structure on the character's jaw._

_Then he broke away and heard his own voice saying, “Merlin… You’re late”._

 

He felt a sharp stab on his head and the image flashed into pitch black as he started to hear Elizabeth’s voice echoing in his ears.

 

“G…eeeooo…rrr…ggee” the man heard Elizabeth’s shout in slow motion.

 

He suddenly realised a strong grip on both of his arms as Elizabeth’s shout jolted him back from the pitch black space of his mind. “GEORGE!!!” shouted Elizabeth.

 

“Elizabeth… I…” the man tried to catch his breath.

 

“Jesus christ, George!!! What the hell happened?! Are you okay????” asked Elizabeth worriedly.

 

The man realised that he had fell down to his knee. He was gasping and cold sweats were running down his spine. He tried to form a sentence but couldn’t retrieve any words from his brain but one.

 

“Merlin…” he said as he took a deep breath.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely pleased with how I wrote these last 2 chapters. So I might just go back and rewrite some of them a little, later on.


	5. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to apologize for my writing. For the love of God, I can't fucking write any smut. It's sooooo bad. But I tried my best... So I'm really sorry about that particular scene in this chapter. However, I'm making it up by drawing more illustrations than usual in this chapter. Hope you guys like it :)
> 
> Oh, and in light of [Colin's recent](http://kinginspanx.tumblr.com/post/128484727122) [hot ass](http://kinginspanx.tumblr.com/post/128690035132) [stubble situation](http://kinginspanx.tumblr.com/post/128844732827), I'm changing Harry's look in my illustration to follow Colin's. CAUSE COME ON, ADORABLE RUGGED ENGLISH TEACHER!HARRY??? YESSS PLEASE.

Cooking had never failed to lift George’s mood— _George,_ that’s what he calls himself now. Quite the perfect way to end a messy first day at work. He had just finished arranging all the dish on the table when the bell rang.

 

He swiftly wiped his hand clean—not that they were dirty, but he just wanted to be sure—and head to the door.

 

“Heyyy George!” Elizabeth was standing outside the door holding two bottle of Guinness.

 

George greeted her with a polite smile and said, “Hello Elizabeth”.

 

“Brought your favorite” said Elizabeth as she made a show of the Guinness to George.

 

George chuckled. “Yes, how thoughtful of you”. He then moved himself gently to the side to let her in.

 

“Wow!!! Did you cook all of this?” asked Elizabeth as she took a sweep look of the food on the table.

 

George shrugged sheepishly. “I hope this is not too excessive… I believe I was stress cooking--if that’s even considered a thing” said George as he begun to realise thequantity of the food he’s prepared.

 

Elizabeth studied George for awhile as he clumsily rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand while looking at the food in distress.

 

“How was your first day? Everything went okay?” asked Elizabeth.

 

George sighed and pulled up a chair from the table. “No…” He let out a small grunt and sagged at the chair. Elizabeth followed his lead and pulled a chair for her to sit in as well.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked attentively.

 

“I was late… Didn’t even have time to shave. I was literally sprinting my way to the class, and ended up dropping all my books when I got to the door…” he covered his face with his hands and made loud groan.

 

“It was so embarrassing! They all laughed at me! What a way to make first impression, eh?” He pushed his head backwards and stared at the ceiling to let the embarrassment fade off.

 

“Well... I never had any good experience with first impression, myself... But if it’s any consolation, I think you look kinda hot unshaven” said Elizabeth as she tried to keep a straight face.

 

The remarks made George pulled his head back down again and turned to Elizabeth in swift motion. “Really?” his face was beginning to blush.

 

Elizabeth couldn’t help letting out a small chuckle as she watched George’s face went into an even pinker shade of white.

 

“You’re teasing me…” George made an attempt to pout but was too embarrassed to do it. He settled on fixing his black thick horn-rimmed glasses instead. It’s a habit he does whenever he gets nervous or shy.

 

“No, I’m not!  Honestly, it makes you look manlier… It’s the ruggedness, I guess” said Elizabeth as she stared at George carefully.

 

George bashfully rubbed his stubble as he avoided Elizabeth’s gaze. “Maybe I’ll keep it…”

 

“Maybe you should” Elizabeth smiled as she met George’s eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

It has been almost a month since the FBI (thanks to the fierce effort of Elizabeth) decided to put George in special protection program after the London trip was only successful in getting George to remember a wizard name from that Arthurian legend. Eric was furious and chose to channel his anger by joyfully making constant sarcastic remarks to George and Elizabeth. He felt really bad, as if he had failed Elizabeth. But he really couldn’t bring himself to remember anything. He’d even tried to watch that Disney movie which featured the famous wizard.

 

To be perfectly frank, George thought the program’s name was rather misplaced as he was more supervised and monitored rather than _protected_. But he did not complain, he was much grateful that the FBI was kind enough to support him with a new life. They gave him a new identity and Elizabeth even made it possible for George to choose a profession he’s keen on.

 

He chose to be an English teacher and Elizabeth kindly acquired him a position in one of the public high schools in New York. Of course, George had to go through a couple of tests, but he passed all of them with flying colours. He never really gave it a thought on _why_ he wanted to be a English teacher, somehow he just felt a sort of lingering fondness and dormant knowledge of literature. There were so many occasions in which George would blurt out a quote from a book without having remembered reading the book at all. Elizabeth always gave him an incredulous look whenever he did that.

 

“This is probably the best meal I’ve had in like 5 years. This is really delicious, George” said Elizabeth as she took a bite of George’s rosemary chicken.

 

“You’re exaggerating” George smiled. “But thank you”.

 

“So what did you teach today, _Mr. Falconer_?” Elizabeth chuckled. “Did you make them call you that way?”

 

George let out a soft giggle. “Yes…” He put down his spoon, and fixed his glasses. “I talked about Hemingway. There was this one line from one of his books that I’m really fond—“

 

Elizabeth raised a brow. “Let me guess, another procedural memory?”

 

George gave her a faint smile. He couldn’t help but feel guilty whenever he remembered something from his procedural memory. There he was, the _only_ person in the world who knows the identity of the people behind Rogue Monday, and all he could remember was everything about tailoring, A LOT of literature quotes, a strong preference towards a certain alcohol drink, and the name of a fictional wizard.

 

“So, you know a lot about tailoring, literature, and have a super human reflex and amazing analytical thinking… What does that tell us about who you were?” Elizabeth squinted her eyes and thought hard.

 

“OH!!! I know!!! You were a super spy whose cover was a bespoke tailor!” shouted Elizabeth as she snapped her fingers in enlightenment.

 

“That sounds ridiculous” George laughed.

 

Elizabeth shrugged. “You try coming up with better guess then!”

 

George watched her drank her last drop of Guinness when he noticed something. “Elizabeth, you have something on your…” he said as he made a gesture of pointing to his bottom lip..

 

“Oh God! Really? Damn.” Said Elizabeth as she tried to wipe the spot on her face that George was hinting. “Have I got it?” She lunged her face forward to give George a clearer angle to see.

 

“No, here allow me…” George placed his fingers on Elizabeth’s bottom lip and stroked it gently. He felt the softness of her lips on his fingertips and was helplessly entranced by them. In that tender silence, his eyes traced the contour of the beautiful face before him. George did not even realise that his fingers were still lingering on Elizabeth’s until his gaze met hers.

 

He quickly removed his hands from her face and said, “I’m so—“

 

And just like that, George felt the instant warmth of Elizabeth lips on his as she lunged towards him. And within moments Elizabeth’s right hand gently cupped his scruffy cheek in yearning. George was surprised by the embrace but realised just how much he longed for such affection, so he leaned forward and kissed her back.

 

Elizabeth smelt like a blend of rose and gunpowder. George traced her blonde wavy hair with his fingers and gently draw her body closer to him as his hands made it to the back of her neck. He could feel Elizabeth’s tongue tasting his lips as her hands started undressing George’s long sleeve shirt. He jerked at the touch of Elizabeth’s hand on one the scars on his hip. George grabbed her hands and broke away from the kiss.

 

“What’s wrong, George?” asked Elizabeth. George avoided her eyes as he started straightening his shirt back to cover his body.

 

“I’m not…” he paused to let out a sigh. “My body is not exactly a pretty sight Elizabeth…” George tried to look away but Elizabeth took his right hand pushed up the sleeve.

 

She made a point of carefully inspecting one of the scars on George’s right arm, and then leaned forward and kissed it. And so she pushed the sleeve further and kissed each scar that she found on George’s arm. Elizabeth made her way up to George’s shoulder and stretched his shirt’s collar to find the gun wound on George’s right shoulder. He shivered at the touch of her soft lips on his shoulders. Elizabeth noticed the reaction and turned to face him. She looked at him straight in the eyes and smiled tenderly..

 

“I actually dig the scars, you know. I think it’s high time we see more of them”.

 

George’s face went red in an instant and Elizabeth could not help but to let out a little laugh. They both shared a loving look, and then leaned forward to kiss each other in a synchronized moment.

 

* * *

 

 

Eggsy leaned back to the wall as he tried to catch his breath. He had been running around the mansion, looking for Merlin’s new office only to be desperately lost in the maze of the humongous building.

 

“Fuck me. This house is bloody huge!—and by the way, Merlin—your fucking laser beam almost cut me in half!”

 

“Yes, sorry about that. It should not be doing that to the Knights. Thought I had programmed it to recognize all of your glasses’ signal. Must be a bug somewhere” said Merlin as he tapped his clipboard again, probably writing a reminder.

 

“You made a level 5 emergency signal, Merlin?” inquired Roxy. Merlin looked up from his pad and his face turned dark as Roxy’s words snapped him back to the bad news that he’s about to bring. “Yes”.

 

“I was doing a final check up on everything in relation to Valentine last night and everything looked clean and dusted. But I came across a couple of incidents that have been happening around New York”. Merlin started typing at his keyboard and the giant monitor in front of him lighted up to show clippings of news stories and social media posts.

 

“Blake Payne, 17, Bayside High School. Went berserk in his Math class and killed five of his classmates. Said he couldn’t remember why he wanted to kill them, he just did”. Merlin tapped his clipboard, the clippings on monitor changed into new collection of headlines. “Marsha Stewart, 16, Manhattan Bridges High School. Same thing happened; only she was successfully stopped before killing any of her classmates. However, she did injure about half of them. She also claimed that she could not understand nor remember why the sudden urge of killing appeared”.

Merlin tapped his clipboard again. “This last one is quite interesting. Ethan Gilbert, 16, Townsend Harris High School. Killed 10 of his classmates and then jumped out of the school’s 3rd floor window. This last case was caught in video and was posted on Youtube”. Merlin tapped his clipboard again and a video footage of a 16 year old boy punching and throwing chairs towards his classmates started playing at the monitor. The boy was huge, _probably an athlete_ , Eggsy thought. Then the video showed the boy lifting a girl and throwing her towards the whiteboard. He then ran towards the window and jumped.

 

“Jesus!” Eggsy hissed at the scene.

 

“Are you thinking that these are Valentine’s cases, Merlin?” asked Roxy, always with her cool and collected tone.

 

“That is my worst fear, yes. The New York police are treating this cases as recurrences of IPS, and as the world still think that IPS is some sort of plague, they resorted to putting their family members and the people around them in quarantine for 24 hours after the incident” explained Merlin.

 

“Yea but we all know that it’s not a plague…” said Eggsy, still a bit shaken after seeing the violent scene on the monitor.

 

“But these cases are not widespread, Merlin. Valentine’s technology was transmitted and affected everyone within range. Unless.––” said Roxy.

 

“Unless someone has made an advancement on the technology and made it possible for the signal to target a specific individual. And more interestingly is why the last person, Ethan, killed himself afterwards.” Both young agents looked at Merlin with burning curiosity. “I’ve checked the boy’s background, there’s no indication whatsoever that he was experiencing mental illness or any form of mental health condition. And look at this” Merlin paused the video to the moment right before the boy rushed his way to the window and zoomed in at his face. “Look at his eyes. There’s nothing there”.

 

“You thinking he’s like brainwashed or sumthin’?” asked Eggsy.

 

“That’s what we need to find out.” Merlin gave them a somber look. “If someone out there really has advanced Valentine’s technology… I can’t imagine the horror that they could bring”.

 

“Understood. How do we start then? Have you figured out a pattern? Why those three kids were chosen?” asked Roxy.

 

“Sadly, no. But I did find a pattern. There is this new drug that has become quite popular within the high school kids in New York. The local police still has no clue of the source. The drug would disappear from circulation every time a suspected high school was being investigated. Interestingly, the three high school attended by those three IPS students were investigated for this same exact drug.”

 

“That can’t be a coincidence” said Roxy.

 

“That’s what I thought. Now, the drug was last seen in circulation about a month ago. The New York police still couldn’t find anything. _But_ , I had a look around the internet last night and it seems that the drug is back in circulation again, at Eleanor Roosevelt High School. I don’t think the police has found out about it yet—the kids seem to be able to secure their network well enough—and I’d rather they don’t. At least not until we have the chance to investigate this whole thing”.

 

“So you want us to go check out this high school then?” asked Eggsy.

 

“Correct. I’ve set up these identities for you two. You’ll be going undercover as a transferred student from LA—“

 

“Wait, you want us to go undercover as high school student?!” There was a faint exaggerated horror in Eggsy’s eyes as he remembered the not-so-fond memories from his high school days.

 

“Yes. And how is your American accent by the way?” asked Merlin with his ever stone face.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t _believe_ Merlin is _seriously_ making us do this!” Eggsy said with grumpy face and finished it with a dramatic grunt.

 

Roxy turned to him subtly, “Shut up Eggsy! You’re creating attention.”

 

“How long are going to keep this up? Fuck, what if we have to do exams?! I didn’t sign up for this shit” complained Eggsy.

 

Roxy rolled her eyes at Eggsy. “Oh please. Don’t be such a drama queen”.

 

“Eggsy, Roxy, can you two put on your glasses, please?—And Eggsy, both of you are staying undercover until we can find the source of the drug. So I suggest you better find it soon if you want to get out of there”, Merlin’s voice creaked from their earpieces.

 

“Fine” Eggsy groaned as he put on his glasses.

 

“Alright, the feed is live. I’ll be watching throughout the day. And do remember to put on your American accent. Both of you are supposed to come from LA”.

 

“Understood, Merlin” said Roxy softly as not to let the other students hear her voice.

 

“Where’s the teacher anyway? He’s  already 15 minutes late” complained Eggsy with louder volume than intended.

 

“He’s always late. Last time he had us waiting for half an hour and showed up drenched cause he said he fell into a pond. The guy is clumsy as hell” said the kid who was seated in front of Eggsy and overheard his complain.

 

“Really?” said Eggsy, more controlled, with an American accent.

 

“Yeah. What’s up man? I’m Dave. You’re new?” The kid offered Eggsy his hand.

 

“Danny. Yeah, just transferred with my sister, Jess” Eggsy shook his hand and gestured at Roxy.

 

“Hi Jess, I’m Dave” the kid said to Roxy and couldn’t help but letting out a small flirtatious smile.

 

“Hi” replied Roxy with a hesitant smile.

 

Their acquaintanceship was interrupted when they heard the door creaked open. A tall man with wavy brown hair in black thick horn-rimmed glasses let himself in with a shy walk.

 

“Good morning class!” he greeted as he walked to his desk.

 

Eggsy did not realize that he was already on his feet. His eyes widened as he stared at the man in front of the class with his mouth opened. He could feel his body trembling and hands getting colder.

_It can’t be._ Eggsy could not process the spectacle before him nor the feelings that are spiralling inside his head. He was about to shout the name that he had been missing ever since the V-Day when Roxy grabbed his left hand and dragged him back down to his seat. Roxy looked at Eggsy with a grim and stern look as if saying _I know, but you need to get a hold of yourself!_ Eggsy could feel the rush of tear trying to escape his eyes. He fought it back, along with the sharp pain on his chest.

 

As both agents sat there in their position, trying their damnedest to control themselves, they heard a sound of a glass cracking followed by splash of water in their earpieces.

 

“Harry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the high school names in this chapter is a result of Googling. So let me know if I got anything wrong!


End file.
